Prisoner of Fancy
by asentimentaljourney
Summary: This is a story that I had a dream about a few months ago and decided to write down. I highly suspect it was inspired by one of Catherine Morland's imaginative scenes in the 2007 "Northanger Abbey" movie, where her carriage is attacked and she then becomes prisoner to a mysterious man.
1. Chapter 1

The sharp dip of the carriage wheel jolted her awake. Clara looked around indifferently at the other passengers in the carriage, none of whom seem particularly interested in her either. It had been a long journey, almost two days' worth of traveling across the countryside by coach, with little sleep along the way. The paths were muddy and uneven, uncomfortable to say the least. Having to share a small space with three other people was unpleasant enough. She hadn't eaten a proper meal in days- losing your entire family in an instant tended to have that kind of effect on the appetite. But she couldn't change the past, only move on and hope to find a better life. Thus she booked her passage with what little money she had, and headed south on the coach. A distant aunt on her father's side had written to her after the accident, offering to take her in to live with her at her small cottage near the sea. She graciously accepted, knowing she had nowhere else to go.

Once again the back wheel of the carriage dropped and jostled her in her seat, only this time the carriage came to a sudden stop. She heard the elevated voices of the coachmen atop and hoped that the wheel wasn't broken. She waited for an attendant to inform them as to what had occurred, but no knock on the door came. Slowly she began to realize that something was wrong. Soon other voices of men could be heard outside, and her fellow passengers began to shiver with panic. Fearing the worst, they spoke of bandits, escaped madmen and murderers- no one daring to open the carriage door and look out. Suddenly the right side door flew open and a ragged looking bearded man dressed in black came into sight. He cackled with laughter and lunged for the neck of the stately looking woman beside him draped in pearls. As this struggle ensued Clara forced open the opposite door and sprinted into the woods that surrounded the muddy path. It was nearly dark and she had no idea where she was, but figured it was the only option. She had no idea how many men surrounded the carriage and didn't dare to waste a precious second looking back to try and found out.

Clara hoped she had escaped unnoticed, but within seconds of her flight out the carriage she heard the raspy shouts of the bearded man close at her heels.

"Not so fast, girly! The master will be especially pleased if we catch a young and pretty one!"

Clara was confident she could outrun the aging scoundrel, pushing her feet to the limit and plunging deeper into the dense woods. But surprisingly he kept her pace. She cursed the long, flowing dress she was wearing as it quickly got tangled in her legs, and she nearly stumbled on a tree stump. It was then that he was able to grab hold of the hood of her cape. As he yanked the fabric away, the golden waves that were once atop her head tumbled down with it and the ribbon fastener around her neck broke loose, revealing her uncommonly pretty face. Her cape flew back into the face of her pursuer who brashly pushed it to the ground. As his hands reached out in a final attempt they made contact, painfully gripping her delicate wrist. Clara, mustering all her strength, slammed her free elbow into the large gut of her attacker who with the unexpected blow keeled over, releasing his grip on her wrist.

She broke free and ran as fast and hard as she could with the words of the bearded man trailing after her through the air:

"You can run all you want missy but you can't hide! The woods are a dark and scary place at night, especially for a lady without her cape!"

As she ran further into the woods, Clara couldn't help but notice the chill of the wind as it grazed her now bare arms. Her long, golden hair blew wildly around her face and a single strand lay plastered to the cheek now wet with tears.


	2. Chapter 2

She had been running for over an hour. Clara's feet ached and she was thoroughly exhausted. She reluctantly came to a stop to take off her leather boots, as the small heel was hindering her more now as she tried to track through the increasingly muddy forest. This was the first time she'd actually been able to take in her surroundings. She'd been so focused on running away she hadn't really thought about how she would get through the night or find shelter. It was now practically dark and the reality of the situation hit her and panic began to set in. She took a deep breathe, looked around and noticed that the trees were beginning to thin out, giving her a shred of hope that a clearing would be near. She tied the laces of her boots together and began to slowly walk, the fall leaves crunching under her bare feet.

Clara honestly didn't know how she was still moving. She had no energy and was running only on the small piece of bread she had for breakfast that morning in the carriage. She stumbled several times, each time so tempted to lie on the ground and fall asleep. But Clara had always been strong-willed, and she forced herself to get up and get walking. Branches scratched her bare arms as she walked, and as she looked down she realized one of her dress sleeves had been torn and now laid limply around her elbow. It was at the very moment she was about to give up that she suddenly came upon a grass clearing, and as she stepped out of the forest she looked up and saw a towering structure atop a hill mere miles before her, magnificently imposing under the moonlight.

Avonwell Abbey! Clara recognized its features immediately, having heard its description through tales about its dark past as a child. Although the prospect terrified her immensely, she knew her only option was to venture onto its ground and pray that someone sane lived there. Suddenly she heard a familiar raspy voice not far from her in the distance, and knew that the group of rogue men had finally caught up with her. She had no choice but to run towards Avonwell Abbey.

As she made her way into the clearing, she knew she'd be in plain sight of the men, and sure enough, their shouts of delight made their way to her ears.

"There's our pretty lass! I told you ya couldn't hide! Master will be mighty pleased with this one, aye men?

Clara at last made her way through the stone arches of the grounds and as she turned the corner she ran smack into another body, immediately falling to her knees at the impact.

As she tried to catch her breath, Clara looked up and gazed at the man she had collided with.


	3. Chapter 3

In the dark she could barely make out his features, which were further hidden by the hat that tilted ever so slightly across his face. But he was tall and ruggedly handsome, with a strong nose and jaw, and suave dark hair that curled near his ears and the nape of his neck. Clara couldn't make out the color of his eyes, but she could feel them staring intently at her probably horrid und appearance. His muscular arms and chest were outlined through the thin cotton tunic that he wore- Clara suddenly felt ashamed for noticing, and promptly hid her face beneath a curtain of hair and straightened out her skirt. She slowly got to her feet, still a little dizzy and sore from the impact.

She looked behind her and saw her pursuers not far behind, and was puzzled by their slow pace. Had they given up pursuing her? Maybe, she thought, they had admitted defeat now that they have seen I have arrived to safety. Plus a man of this size and musculature could easily take the four brutes even if they tried to lay a hand on me in his presence. She suddenly felt grateful to the mysterious man for arriving at the exact moment that he had.

She opened her mouth to speak and the emotions soon came pouring out. "Sir, thank heavens you appeared when you did, but please you must help me, those men just behind me are a band of rogue men that attacked the carriage I was traveling on and have been relentlessly following me through the woods, and my cape was torn from me, my feet are cold and numb and I really haven't eaten anything of sustenance in days and I am just so terribly tired and I really must find a place to lie down and you must be some sort of groundskeeper for the Abbey so if you could kindly take me to the lord or lady of the house I'd be much obliged—"

Her breathless speech was cut short by the raspy voice she knew too well, whose owner now stood near feet away.

"Ah Master, there you are. I see you've caught the fair maiden at last. She'll make a fine prisoner of fancy, will she not?"

Clara was suddenly horrified. Had he just called her supposed savior master? Had she run all this way only to be caught by the very man whose men she had been trying to escape from?

"You-you can't be!" She exclaimed breathlessly, looking back and forth between the men. Clara suddenly felt very lightheaded, the lack of food and endless running now catching up with her. The dark night and the men before her disappeared from view as she lost consciousness.

And the master of Avonwell Abbey closed the distance between them in an instant as she collapsed into him, his strong arm circling her waist. He stayed that way for a moment before lifting her limp body up into his arms, and he began walking back towards the grounds, her long golden waves swaying in the night air as her head bobbed against his shoulder with each step.


	4. Chapter 4

"Go fetch the horses Gainsley. They are tied to a tree just west of the arches."

"Yes, Master Niklaus" replied the balding man, who trudged off in search of the horses, still a little out of sorts and breathless from the pursuit. Damn woman, he thought as he walked away. Making me run through the woods all night. She even had the gall to thrust her elbow into my gut! Hmph! I hope Master works her to the death! Although it'd be a shame to waste such a pretty face. Damn woman…

Niklaus adjusted the unconscious woman in his arms, and peered down into the delicate and still face that rested on his chest. Well this makes things interesting, he thought. She is quite the beauty. And apparently can handle herself quite well judging by the reports the men had given him earlier. Running barefoot through the woods for several hours. Even injuring that fool Gainsley along the way! Impressive woman. They certainly made out well in today's raid. She was even better than the small fortune his men took off the Viscount traveling with her. Yes indeed, he had much use for her back at the Abbey…

As Gainsley arrived back with the horses Niklaus gently dropped Clara to her feet again, propping her up against him, keeping one arm around her waist and assembling the reigns of his steed with the other. He propped his foot into the saddle, and smoothly swung his body over the horse, carrying Clara with him as if she weighed nothing. He settled her in front of him on the saddle, resting her back against his chest.

"Markus, what has Gainsley done with her cape?"

"It's here, sir."

"Bring it to me." Markus handed him the cape and Niklaus proceeded to drape it over Clara's still form, the other men snickering at the gesture.

He then looped his arms around her waist and grabbed the reigns. He nudged his horse and the men began their trek up the steep hill towards the Abbey, the bright moon the only thing lighting their way.


End file.
